Day Twenty

The envelope

Amid the snoring of the dogs
And the chirping of the birds
Because of the envelope in her hands
She hears nothing but cotton
Reaching into her throat
Absorbing everything fluid
Stopping even time
Addressed in neat printed letters
Sealed and stamped
A simple thing, an envelope
And she tries to remember to breathe
But can’t remember how
The envelope controls her lungs
And the sunshine through the windows
That lands on the snoring dogs
Who have no idea at all
That everything has stopped